White Spirit
by Guardian Soul
Summary: Ironically meeting his end at the Valley of the End, Naruto's death was only the beginning of something much bigger. Reborn into the world of Tamriel, he will rise to meet his fate as Dovahkiin.
1. Chapter 1

"**SASUKE!"**

"**NARUTO!"**

Naruto Uzumaki and Sasuke Uchiha's screamed each other's name as their ferocious attacks collided into one massive explosion. The collision between the biju and curse augmented attacks caused an orb of dense, and dark chakra to form around them. The Valley of the End's lake thrashing violently from the pressure given off by the orb.

Within the orb, both young shinobi could not see, nor hear or feel; as if their senses had been shut off. All they could see was blinding white light. Then as quick as it came, the whiteness left, leaving utter blackness in its wake. Sasuke groaned as he opened his eyes, realizing the aforementioned darkness was the back of his eyelids. Sitting up, he quickly realized he was still at the Valley of the End, the landscape ruined by his battle earlier with Naruto.

Naruto!

Twisting his head around in frantic motion looking around for the idiot shinobi, but he was nowhere in sight. Not wasting any time, Sasuke immediately started running in the direction of Orochimaru's compound. If Naruto had survived, he was likely unconscious and he didn't want to be there when he woke up.

Little did Sasuke know, there was no trace of the blond gaki anywhere. Even Kakashi, who arrived mere minutes after Sasuke vacated the Valley, could not find hide or tail of Naruto Uzumaki. It was if the blond had disappeared.

*Black Void*

The body of the last Uzumaki floated in absolute darkness. The only evidence of the earlier battle was his tattered clothes that loosely hung around his body. Naruto floated there, undisturbed and unmoving, oblivious to the vast void around him. Even if he had been awake, he would not have seen the giant dragon before it clutched him in its claws.

*Pantheon of the Divines*

In an elegant, massive circular room resembling a court house, nine beings watched with growing anxiety and eagerness at the battered body of the young boy lying in the middle. On an enormous pedestal, sat Akatosh in his dragon form. The Chief Deity of the Nine looked on with sympathy and sadness at the dead boy.

Arching his head up, he spoke to his fellow divines. "The time has come. Alduin is returning and his brothers will soon follow in his wake. We have chosen our champion, the world's Dragonborn."

"It seems so cruel." Stendaar, the god of mercy said in melancholy. "His former life had so much pain and so little love, is it really right to force him back into a world of even more bloodshed?"

"We have already chosen our champion, it is to be him." Julianos, god of wisdom, answered. "He will know love, hate, pain, sadness and happiness. But there is no one else better suited, it's was the boys destiny to fight Alduin."

Stendaar's expression tightened, "I know, but it seems so…cruel."

A tall Imperial dressed in a black robe with a coffin set on the torso, walked from his seat and placed his hand over the boy's face. "Where shall we place him, Akatosh?" asked Arkay, god of funerals and rebirth.

Akatosh looked at Julianos then back at Arkay. "After much consideration with Julianos and Talos, we want to place him…"

*The College of Winterhold*

Savos Aren, Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold, was a master of the arcane. In his many years of dedicated study here in this fine college, he had learned much, and seen much. He'd seen this college when it was in its golden years. He had witnessed the great collapse of Winterhold. And he'd seen many of his die in the Labirynthian.

After so many years of casting spells, summoning creatures from Oblivion, and causing his friends to become enthralled to prevent a dragon priest from wreaking havoc upon Skyrim, he'd thought there was nothing left in the world that would surprise him.

But it was on this day that found that had yet to see it all.

Aren was currently exiting the Hall of the Elements after finishing an argument with the accursed Thalmor agent, Ancano. The Altmer had been criticizing some of the remaining students for not sharing the results of their research, and Savos had to remind the "stick up his ass" bastard that he was here at the Arch-Mages pleasure. The argument had left Savos infuriated and stressed, and had decided some time outside would be good for him.

It was the moment he closed the gate when he heard the crying. Lying there in the central magicka fountain was a bawling baby.

The Dunmer stared in utter confusion for a moment, before realizing the danger the infant was in. Exposure to such a large amount of pure magicka could be fatal to men and mer alike. Quickly retrieving the baby, he wrapped it in a blanket and then rushed inside the Hall of Elements.

"Tolfdir!" Savos said as he rushed into the chamber.

The old Alteration instructor turned his head at hearing the unmistakable voice of his Arch-Mage. He was about what Savos was yelling when he saw the child Savos's arms.

"Savos! You didn't tell me you were married! And look you've already got a little one. I'm so happy for you!" Tolfdir said delighted, arms raised to sweep Savos into a hug, but the deadly glare made him reconsider.

"This is not my child." Savos said in a no-nonsense tone. Savos Aren's temper was legendary at the college.

"What's all the commotion for!" shouted Faralda as she entered the chamber. Then she saw the baby. "And why is there a child in the College? I thought we didn't allow them." She finished, crossing her arms.

"I didn't bring him in, I found him!" Savos shouted over the baby's excessive cries.

Faralda simply, not able to stand it anymore, took the Savos and began rocking it in her arms, her maternal instincts coming into play. "Hush, now." She whispered as the baby stopped crying, and stared at her with brilliant blue eyes. It only took few seconds before it finally fell asleep.

Sighing in relief, Faralda shot Savos a hard look. "Shall we take this to your private quarters, where we can talk on private?"

Savos nodded and led both Faralda and Tolfdir to his quarters. They laid the mysterious newborn on a table, gently so it would not wake up.

The destruction user turned to the Arch-Mage, her scowl evident. "Now, would you mind telling us what the hell is going on!" she hissed quietly.

"Yes, I would also very much like to know who that child is, and why is it here." Tolfdir said his expression neutral.

The Dunmer looked at the child before looking back at his inquiring colleagues. His arms sagged as he sighed in defeat. "I…don't know. I found him outside, dumped in the main magicka pool."

Faralda looked at Savos with a disbelieving expression. Tolfdir was now staring wide-eyed at the sleeping child.

"What?" Faralda demanded, disbelieving of such an outlandish idea. Prolonged exposure to magicka could prove damaging to men and mer alike. It could even someone if their magicka reserves were small enough. "Impossible!"

Savos crossed his arms, "It's the truth."

"Well what are we supposed to do about it then?" the destruction trainer asked, arms spread wide. "It's not like we can keep it!"

While Savos and Faralda were busy arguing, Tolfdir took advantage of the moment to examine the mysterious infant. It looked about a year old, with a tuft of…white hair? Tolfdir looked closer, ignoring the infant as it played with his beard. Now he was getting on in years, but the child did in fact have white hair.

White hair was not uncommon for people these days. That is, if Altmer counted as "people". The infant that was giggling as it played with the old man's beard was a human. Difficult to tell whether or not it was a Breton, Nord, or Imperial, but it was a human. And the child was most definitely a BOY. (A/N: Seriously, as I write this, I am getting SICK of using IT to describe Naruto.)

Astounded at the boy's odd hair color (and dismissing the possibility that he might be an albino) casually took out a small device that resembled a pocket watch with a strip of green silk hanging by a hook on the bottom part of the rim. A Nullam Mensor, a small machine used to measure the amount of magicka within a person. Tolfdir kept this thing handy when he measured the magicka reserves in prospective students hoping to enter the college. The golden years behind them, he rarely used this little gizmo anymore with the lack of students coming in anymore.

The Alteration trainer wrapped the golden chain around the infant's wrist. Almost immediately, the green silk turned from green, to red, and then to blue, a dark blue. The watch part, which was designed to measure magicka numerically, broke as several gears popped out in an almost comical way.

For the second time that day, Tolfdir's eyes widened. Blue? That was the color that labeled those with only the highest amount of magicka in their bodies. Infact, only Altmer with their inborn advanced magicka reserves could achieve this level.

When Tolfdir turned to tell Savos and Faralda what had happened, he found the Altmer and Dunmer still arguing like an old married couple.

"I say we give it to Winterhold, let the Jarl figure it out!" Faralda exclaimed.

"You know we can't do that! The Jarl would never accept anything from the College of Winterhold-

"SILENCE!" Tolfdir yelled, using alteration magic to make his voice louder. Startled, Faralda and Savos gave Tolfdir their attention.

"Thank you. Now while you two were arguing, I took the moment analyze are mysterious guest here." He explained, gesturing to the baby he was holding, who giggled again at being called "mysterious guest". "I made some remarkable discoveries. First, it's a boy. Second, he has white hair and is human, which is highly irregular for humans. But that's not even half as unusual as to what I discovered next." He held up the broken Nullam Mensor. "This is my personal Nullam Mensor. I've had it ever since I began my career as a magister. So there for I've tuned it to perfection and never once did I have to repair it. Until I measured this boy's magicka supply." then he showed them the dark blue silk.

Savos and Faralda exchanged glances, dumbfounded. Tolfdir let a small smile tug at his lips. "This boy has magicka reserves that exceed my own."

Savos was at a loss for words, as was Faralda. "So what do purpose we do now?" Savos asked after a long period of silence.

"We let the college adopt him." Tolfdir said simply. Before the Arch-Mage and the Destruction trainer could let out a protest, Tolfdir interrupted again, "Listen to me for just a moment please." The two elves relaxed. "Thank you. As you two know, the College has seen better days." He turned and spread his arms, using the Arch-Mage's quarters as an example. He turned back to them, "and our golden years have long since passed. But I see much potential in this boy, in fact, I'd say it's a blessing that he showed up at our doorstep, and with his potential, I'd say it's also a blessing for him as this is the best place in Tamriel for humans to learn magic." Since the dissolution of the Mages Guild 200 years ago, the Arcane University had been occupied by an order called the Synod, a group of incompetent magisters that were more skilled in the field of politics than in the field of magic. They had even renamed the Arcane University; "The College of Whispers". Go figure.

The two elves exchanged looks again, like they were contacting through telepathy. "May I see the Nullam Mensor? Or at least what's left of it." Asked Savos. Tolfdir tossed him the now blue silk. Savos examined, twisting it in his fingers, examining it from every angle. It was 100 percent genuine.

"So, what? Are you saying that we should adopt and enroll this boy in the College?" asked Faralda, her voice a little softer than her normally strict tone.

Tolfdir nodded, "That is exactly what I'm saying"

Savos, who had handed the cloth to Faralda for her to examine, had a stare off with the older mage for a fraction of a second, then nodding in understanding of what the old was conveying through his eyes. "Very well, but what do we tell the rest of the College? It's not like they'll accept the fact that we found the child in the Magicka Well, they'll think he's a risk, or worse."

Tolfdir cradled the toddler, who again tried to grab his beard, "Then I'll adopt him and raise him here. We'll say he's my grandson, and that his parents died and he was sent her to me. Who knows, maybe that's what actually happened."

Savos and Faralda nodded in agreement, liking the idea. No one really knew about Tolfdir's family and it was for the best that they say the child was related to Tolfdir; less suspicious that way. "Alright, but what shall we name him? The infant came with nothing at all, not even wrapped in a cloth." Faralda asked curios to how they were going to make this work.

Tolfdir gazed down at the baby, a certain gleam in his eye that only Grandparents got when they were cradling their newborn grandchild. He brushed the tuft white hair on the child's forehead with his hands, noticing how much it reminded him of the common snow in Winterhold. Then Tolfdir looked up at them, his eyes glowing-

"Niveus Spiritus."


	2. Helgen

"Niveus Spiritus of Winterhold" he answered to the Imperial.

The Imperial soldier quickly jotted his name down onto the list. "You picked a bad time to come home, kinsman. Captain, what should we do, he's not on the list." The soldier asked the heavy armored soldier to his right.

"Forget the list, he goes to the block." She said simply.

The Imperial soldier, Hadvar, turned back to the white-haired man with apologetic look on his face. "I'm sorry; we'll make sure your remains get back to Winterhold."

Niveus nodded before joining the rest of the prisoners waiting to be executed. He was a tall, yet young boy of what looked like a mixture of Nordic and Altmerish decent, only the age of about 19. He was tanned skin and muscular but not in excesses. Years of being in Cyrodil allowed his skin to become a faint cream brown, which complemented his white hair and vibrant blue eyes.

Standing amidst the P.O.W he watched as the Imperial General Tulius made a speech to the leader of the rebellion, Ulfric Stormcloak, saying how he wasn't a hero by using the Voice to kill king Toryyg. Then a loud, screeching echo was heard in the distance, which the Imperials dismissed as nothing. The priest of Arkay then began to speak the last rights of the to-be-executed, before a Stormcloak demanded that she shut up. As the rude rebels head rolled off the block, Niveus could feel his respect for the Empire diminish slightly. There was no need for this. They had the leader of the rebellion and it should have been Ulfric's head rolling off the block, not some impatient prisoner who didn't want to hear rambling of some priest.

When they called Niveus up to the block, calling him the Nord in rags, another echoing roar could be heard, only it was louder. The white haired nord kneeled and laid his on the block, waiting for headsman to bring down his axe. The moment it made contact with his neck, the axe would shatter into pieces, causing shrapnel to fly everywhere. That was when he would make his escape.

Then he heard the Imperial General shout "What do you see?"

Then a something landed on the tower behind the headsman, something big. A dragon, as black as the night let out a foreboding roar. There was a loud noise like an explosion then, almost instantly, dark clouds formed in the formally clear sky, meteorites fell, causing chaos.

Niveus rolled off the block and tried to stand up, but his hands were bound and he had hit his head on the edge, making his vision blurry.

"Hey Kinsman, Get up!" The white haired Nord felt rough hands grab him and roughly pull him to his feet. It was the blond Stormcloak soldier that had talked to him when he awoke on the carriage after being knocked out.

"Come on, the gods have given us another chance!" the blond nord beckoned him towards the small tower straight ahead. Taking shelter in the tower, Niveus saw the blond nord, who he found out his name was Ralof, talking with the leader of the rebellion, Ulfric Stormcloak. Ralof had said he thought dragons were legends, before Ulfric said legends don't burn down villages. Their surprise eliminated them from the suspicion that they were behind the dragon attack, so it was obviously someone else.

Not wasting any time, Ralof beckoned Niveus up the stairs, only to stop as the wall was bashed in by the dragon's head, who let out a stream of flame to kill the Stormcloak archers.

Stepping up to the opening in the wall, Niveus looked down at was the burning remains of a large building, likely an inn. "Jump! I'll catch up with you when I can!" Ralof complied.

Without a moment's hesitation, Niveus leaped out of the tower and through the opening in the inn roof and rolling into a roll when he made contact with the floor. Not shaken from the fall at all, jogged out of the inn saw utter chaos unfolding. The soldier from earlier, Hadvar, was giving instructions to an older man. "Get the boy to safety!"

An older man decked out in iron armor nodded, "Gods watch over you Hadvar."

Hadvar turned to face Niveus, "Prisoner! Follow me if you want to survive!" then he took off running down a trail. Niveus ran after, ignoring the Imperial Battlemages as they shot fire balls at the dragon. When Niveus caught up to Hadvar, the imperial soldier ordered him to take cover by a still standing wall of a collapsed house. The white haired nord did as he was told, and watched grimly as the dragon used the nearby fortress wall as a perch and unleashed another stream of fire upon the chaotic Helgen. When it left, Hadvar and Niveus moved away from their hiding and towards the keep, the sturdiest building in the village. Before they could make it to the main entrance, Ralof stepped in the way, an axe in hand.

"Ralof!" Hadvar snarled. "Traitor, outta my way!"

"We're escaping Hadvar! And you aren't stopping us this time!"

"Fine, I hope that dragon takes you all Savengaurd!"(A/N is that how you spell it?) Hadvar ran past the blond Stormcloak, gesturing for Niveus to follow, "Prisoner this way!"

Then Ralof ran for the door flanking Niveus's right, "Prisoner, follow me!" obviously trying to convince the white haired mage to go with him. That was when he realized he had a choice to make. If he went with Hadvar, he'd likely have to side with the Imperials, which was not on his to do list seeing as they nearly executed someone who was obviously not a rebel. But Hadvar was a good man, and not the only one in the legion that had honor. On the other hand, there was Ralof and the Stormcloaks. There cause was honorable, protecting their way of life and was full of good, honorable people.

In truth, there was no true evil side to this war. No, the true cause to this war was those bastard Thalmor.

Despite being at a young age, Spiritus had taught himself to think quickly under pressure, and he saw that this decision would weigh heavy on events in the near future, that much was obvious.

Niveus followed Ralof through the door that led to a circular room with a gate and locked door. A corpse of a dead Stormcloak lay dead near a table. Ralof walked over and checked to see if the soldier was still alive. Realizing he was dead, Ralof said a few words of mourning.

After closing the dead Stormcloaks eyes, turned towards the bound Niveus, "Come here, let's get those bindings off." He said brandishing an iron dagger.

Slicing through the leather, Niveus rubbed his raw wrists, thankful to finally be free. "Here, take his armor and weapon, he won't be needing it anymore."

Slipping the Stormcloak armor on and strapping the axe to his waist, Niveus tried to make lightning flow out of his palms. But all he got were some weak sparks. So the silence spell was still in effect. When he had awoke, he found that his entire body was glowing a faint green, indicating that his magic had been rendered unusable. But this spell had been unusually potent, and had yet to wear off.

Oh well, the axe would do. Niveus wasn't particularly skilled with one-handed melee weapons, but he had used bound-weapons before.

While Niveus was busy stretching his arms, trying to get a feel for the armor, Ralof tried in vain to pry open the nearby gate. "Dammit! The gates locked!" the blond turned, a frustrated expression adorning his face as he tried to open the other door near Niveus, only to find it was locked as well. Ralof was about curse in frustration again, but his voice died in his throat as he heard voices come from the other side of the door.

"Imperials! Quickly, hide!" Ralof hissed as took cover by a wall where he wouldn't be noticed immediately. Niveus crouched near the wall the flanked the left side of the door. The young Nordic mage halted his breathing when the door opened. Two soldiers walked in, one clad in heavy, steel Imperial armor, the other wearing lighter, leather armor. Niveus made some hand gestures to Ralof, which said "_I'll kill the leather armored one, you take the officer."_

Ralof nodded, signaling that he understood. "For Skyrim!" Ralof roared the battle cry as he struck the Imperial Legate across the head with his axe. The legate stumbled back, her helmet taking the blunt of the blow, before recovering and drawing her own sword.

The other soldier was about to draw his own sword to defend the legate, but was stopped as Niveus drove axe into his neck. The leather armor of the Imperial didn't provide neck protection. But the axe didn't go all the through, and instead was lodged in the soldiers' throat. The soldier fell to the ground, gurgling as life left his body. Niveus didn't bother to retrieve his axe, as he knew he wouldn't be able to dislodge it, so he took the sword from the Imperial's scabbard.

Ralof was faring well against the legate. She was skilled with the sword in her hand, but the blow she took to the head had made her slow and disoriented. Added to the fact was equally skilled with his axe, he had relatively easy fight on his hands. But the legate was persistent, doing her best to parry strikes and dodge sweeps. The fight ended when Niveus struck her on the back of the head with the butt of his sword.

The legate slumped to the floor, unconscious. Not checking to see if she was still alive, Ralof sheathed his axe and took the key from the legate's belt. Looking over at his new companion, Ralof saw him staring at the dead body of the Imperial he had killed. Ralof saw the look in his eyes, the look of guilt when a person kills for the first time. Ralof looked on in sympathy before patting the boys shoulder. "First kill?" the blond asked.

The white haired boy nodded, before muttering "yeah".

Ralof kneeled down and closed the lifeless eyes of the Imperial soldier, "may you find the mead hall of Savengaurd with ease, nord brother."

Standing up, Ralof turned to the white haired boy, the sympathy obvious in his eyes. "I know what it's like, killing someone for the first time. It's always painful, both for the victim and the soldier. You get used to it eventually, once you except the fact that it's necessary for survival and victory."

Walking past Niveus, Ralof inserted the key into the gate and opened it, the rusty hinges squeaking in protest as the opened. Stepping through the doorway cautiously, Ralof looked down around the storage room, checking for any hiding Imperials. Satisfied that there were none in sight, Ralof turned to call over Niveus, only to find the white haired boy walking past him and into the storage room.

Ralof allowed a ghost of a smile grace his lips. The boy was a quick learner. When Ralof had made his first kill, he got piss drunk at the nearest tavern and had a hangover that lasted for weeks before he recovered. "A storage room. The Imperials should have some potions stored hear somewhere. Try those barrels." Ralof said as tossed a knapsack he found to Niveus. Catching the bag deftly, Niveus opened some of the barrels near him, and found what he was looking for. Stuffing the healing potions and stamina potions and magicka potions into the knapsack, he sealed the bag before slinging it over his back.

"You finished?" Niveus nodded, "good, now let's get going." Ralof ordered.

The two Skyrim born nords proceeded deeper into the keep, searching for a way out. Once or twice, the dragon strike the keep from the outside, making the stone fortress rumble. Finally, they found a door led down to the lower levels of the keep. The room the door led down to was the torture chambers, where found two Stormcloaks fending two Imperial torturers. It was losing battle for the Stormcloaks, as one fell dead when the torturer's assistant blasted the rebel in the chest with a lightning bolt.

Ralof and Niveus charged into the battle, not screaming war cries as that would take away the element of surprise. The torturer had no time to react as Niveus ran him through with his sword. Coughing up blood, the sadistic torturer fell to the ground as the sanguine liquid pooled around his corpse.

The surprise death of his master his master caused the assistant to be distracted for a moment, giving his opponent to smash his skull in with his warhammer. Making sure they were dead, the Stormcloak rebel turned to Niveus and thanked him and Ralof. "I would have been sent to Savenguard a little too early for my liking had you two not come along, so thank you."

Ralof returned the thanking gesture before looking over at one of the cells. Walking over and peering inside, he saw the corpse of a mage slumped against the back bars of the cell, a large coin purse lying next to him. "Hey! There's some gold in here that we could really use. See if there's any lock picks around here and see if you can get this cell open."

Niveus checked a nearby knapsack and found 6 lockpicks, as well as some gold. Storing the gold in his own knapsack, Niveus brandished the lockpicks as he walked over to cell. Inserting the lockpick into the lock, he twisted the lock with a screw driver he found in the knapsack, unlocking the lock about halfway before the pick met resistance and broke. Niveus swore as he inserted another lockpick, this time tilting it a little to the left. When he twisted the lock, the pick broke instantly. Swearing again, he inserted a third pick into the lock, this time tilting it to the right. He twisted the lock and met no resistance as he the lock *clicked* open.

Swinging the cell door open, Niveus found the coin purse Ralof had mentioned earlier. The mage corpse didn't have anything worth taking, except a few more gold pieces and some magicka potions. Stuffing those in the knapsack, he exited the cell and joined Ralof and the other Stormcloak near the entrance to the caves that led out of Helgen.

"Alright, let's not waist anymore time, we need to get out of here." Ralof said before turning and rushing down the cave, Niveus and the Stormcloak following suite. After a few minutes of swift running, Ralof put a hand up, ordering them to stop. Peaking his head around the corner, Niveus saw three legion solders arguing.

"Let's sneak up on them." Ralof suggested.

Crouching, Niveus slowly crawled to the Imperial furthest from the group, seeming to only watch his companion argue. Slowing his breathing just as he did for the Imperial earlier, Niveus stood at full height and the then, in one fluid motion, clamped his over the Imperials mouth, while systematically cutting his throat with his sword. The soldier silently fell to the ground, his death going unnoticed by his oblivious companions.

After the death of the first Imperial, Ralof notched an arrow in a bow he found in the torture room. Like any good marksman would do, he slowed down his breathing as he aimed for an Imperials head. Letting the arrow take to the air, he crouched behind the wall again. The arrow pierced the enemy soldiers head, who slumped to the floor, dead.

His companion stared at the body in shock, but only for a second. This soldier was quick to react, and had already charging towards Niveus, sword drawn. Almost instinctually, raised his hands and tried to cast a spell. To his surprise, a jet of flames erupted from his palms and lit the soldier ablaze with fire. The Imperial screamed, and ran around like a chicken with its head cut off. The soldier eventually tripped over a rock and landed head first onto a river bedrock, his skull cracking on impact.

Looking at his palms, Niveus saw that the silence spell had worn off a little, but was still holding strong. Had he been at his fullest, that soldier would have been ash before he even felt the flames make contact with his skin.

"Ralof! It's safe to come out now!"

The blond nord was already leaving his hiding spot when he called. "Where's the other guy?" Niveus asked, noticing the third party member was missing.

"Coward ran off as soon as he saw the enemy. Guess he was a little shaken after nearly being killed in that torture room. Fool should know that nearly dying is a natural occurrence on the battlefield. Oh well, let's just keep moving." Ralof said bitterly.

Nodding, Niveus followed his new companion as they continued down the cave.

*Scene Break*

Ralof and Niveus were in the cave for another half-hour before they finally found the exit. In the short time, the only danger they faced was a brown grizzly bear, which fell easily to Ralof's arrows.

When they exited the cave, the dragon from earlier flew right overhead. Ralof and his companion took cover behind a rock, trying to stay out of sight.

When the dragon was gone, Ralof turned to his companion "There he goes! Looks like he's gone for good this time."

Ralof then turned and started walking down the trail, "No way to tell if anyone else made it out alive, but this place is going to be swarming with Imperials soon enough. Best we clear out."

Niveus walked beside him, his eyes looking in all directions. These roads could be dangerous and he didn't want to die after what he'd just been through. As a mage, Niveus Spiritus was unbelievably curious about the non-mundane, and that was exactly what this dragon was. Dragons were thought to be an extinct species or merely legends, but back there, as plain as day, was a dragon. Already, the young mage was coming up with new theories or hypothesis's to explain the return of the dragon.

"You know, you should join the Stormcloaks, fight the fight to free Skyrim."

Fight? In a war? Niveus had never once considered the thought. But he was considering it now. The Imperials had intended to kill him like he was part of the rebellion. They didn't know anything about him, and yet they planned to execute him on the ASSUMPTION that he was rebel.

"You really think I should join?" the white haired Nord/Altmer crossbreed asked.

Ralof didn't miss a beat, "Damn right! You don't have to be a nord to fight for Skyrim and her freedom. You should come to me to Windhelm and join the Stormcloaks. You've seen the true face of the empire today."

Niveus returned his new friend's enthusiasm with a smile, "I just might do that."

Ralof smirked, and patted the bot on the back "There's a good man. My sister Gurdur owns the mill in Riverwood, just up the road here. She owns the most profitable business in the village and hates the Imperials just as much as I do. She can give us a place to stay and lay low. We'd better get going, before any Imperial scouts show up, looking for stragglers."

They traveled along the road for an hour, not stopping at all, despite how exhausted they were. Along the way, Ralof pointed out some massive Nordic ruins that loomed over the country side. "Bleak Falls Barrow" Ralof called it.

Before long, they came to a stop when they saw three carved stones sitting on a stone platform thst had been carved into the hill. "These are three of the Guardian Stones that dot Skyrim. They're said to give blessings to any who wish them." Ralof explained.

Niveus studied the stones. They all looked the same except for the constellations symbols that covered the front part of their base. One was the warrior; the next was the mage and finally the thief.

From his time at the College of Winterhold, Niveus had read reports that the blessings from these stones were real and worked.

"Go on, touch one and see if you can get its blessing." Ralof urged.

Niveus had three choices. Each leading him down a different path. But which one was the best to pick?

**A/N: Well, that's chapter two of "White Spirit". I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.  
>Now to explain a few things:<strong>

**Naruto/Niveus has no memory of his past life. This story, hopefully, is going to be a long one. He will eventually return to his old world, but at least after the main quest and a side storyline. **

**I know you really don't get a good grasp on Niveus's personality in this chapter, but you will see it in the next chapter.**

**This. Will. Not. Be. A. HAREM!**

**Naruto does not have any ninjutsu abilities, nor will he get any. I plan make my own abilities for him, which are magic-based and Warrior based.**

**The point of this fic is not for Naruto/Niveus to become some all-powerful badass. It's about him discovering who he truly is and making his own path.**


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